Wednesday, October 31, 2018

Echoes of Fire by Suzanne Wright

Bracken is very territorial, “hear me, Madisyn. If you let another guy touch you while my mark is on you, I’ll snap his effing neck. I will, and I won’t even care. So I repeat: when the touch-hunger flares up again, you come to me.” I liked this book, I fell in love with Bracken, him and his woman butted head so many times.

Tuesday, October 30, 2018

Crazy Love by Christi Snow & Sarah Nego

Ten is like a caveman, “clothes off now,” Ten grunted out while ripping off his shirt. In seconds he was moving on to the buttons of his jeans." I liked this book, I liked Ten.

RELEASE REVIEW: The Day the Jerk Started Falling by Max Monroe

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Rule number one: don’t fall for your best friend’s brother.

Rule number two: don’t fall for jerks.

But rules go out the window the day the jerk starts falling...


The Jerk Duet is complete!

The Day the Jerk Started Falling, the fun and flirty conclusion of The Jerk Duet, from New York Times bestselling author Max Monroe is available NOW!

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My name is Oliver Arsen, but my mates call me Ollie.
I live hard and love harder, and it’s love that usually gets me in the most trouble.
According to the greater population, I’m the ultimate jerk.
My affection tends to be short-lived—a quality I’ve been assured multiple times by the fairer sex isn’t becoming—and the leaving part of loving and leaving has always come natural.
At least, it used to.
Until her.
Luciana Wright.
She’s an American bombshell and my sister’s best friend—a woman so wrong for
me, it’s written in the waves.
And she’s the reason we’re all here.
The reason I have to go back to explain how it all went wrong.
To the day the jerk started falling.
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Start the Duet with The Day I Stopped Falling for Jerks!
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At least Ollie recognizes his faults, "...nearly a week of waiting, one thing became painfully clear— patience wasn’t my style." Ollie often times only has one thing on his mind, "...I reach across the car to playfully slap him on the arm. “Stop being so horny. We need to get inside!” Ollie really is all for worshipping his woman, “baby, your arse is serious business,” he whispers in my ear with a little grin etched on his lips. “Speaking of which, I’m starting to regret not joining you in the shower this morning…” I liked this book, I loved Ollie and his attitude.


  Podcast Series: The Day the Jerk Started Falling with Oliver Arsen   Dating is easy, mates. The women are plentiful, the opportunities abundant, and the fun endless.   I’ve taken a woman night surfing—only to end up using the board and the motion of the water for another purpose—jetted over to New Zealand for a two-day holiday with another, and given more than one a fair tour of my bedroom.   No effort overspent, I enjoyed every moment of it.   I live hard and love harder, but it’s the second one that usually gets me in the most trouble. My affection tends to be short-lived—a quality I’ve been assured multiple times by the fairer sex isn’t becoming.   Basically, according to the greater population, I’m the ultimate jerk.   And if you grouped the lot of my past conquests together and set me ablaze, not one of them would piss on me to save my life.   Taking the next step, having a long-term relationship, has never been my forte.   Commitment is hard. The thought of a one-woman wank for the rest of my life has barely ever been conceivable, let alone possible, and I have to blame that for how badly it all went.   When I look back at my behavior, there has to be a reason.   A reason, friends, that when it came to Luciana Wright, I fucked it all up.   I’ve been cursed out, stomped on, slapped. Had my balls volleyed, spat on, and punched. And even, on one occasion, nearly run over by a car with a madwoman behind the wheel.   But I’ve never been through the brutal torture of love.   Until Lucky.   She’s an American bombshell and my sister’s best friend—a woman so wrong for me, it should be written in the waves. And she’s the reason we’re all here.   The exact reason why I strong-armed the lovely, albeit slightly hard-ass, editor of this fantastic website to let an Aussie bloke like me prattle on about his love woes. [chuckles]   Vanessa, if you’re listening, I’m certain your balls are bigger than just about every man out there. And trust me, that is a compliment. [chuckles again]   Also, thank you for your hospitality via podcast permission. It is much appreciated.   And you, dear listeners, you should know that for the next God only knows how many episodes of this podcast series, I’m going to spend my time talking directly to Lucky. If you’re not her, but you’d like to keep listening, I urge you to help me. Help me by hearing me out. Help me by relating to my story. Help me plead my case. And to really prepare yourself to get the whole tale from both sides, listen to her podcast first. [distinct pause]   I had you in my grasp, Lucky, but now it’s fallen apart.   And in order to explain how it happened—to explain myself—I feel like I have to go back to the day it all began.   To the day the jerk started falling.  
About Max Monroe:
A secret duo of romance authors team up under the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling pseudonym Max Monroe to bring you sexy, laugh-out-loud reads.   Max Monroe is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of more than ten contemporary romance titles. Favorite writing partners and long time friends, Max and Monroe strive to live and write all the fun, sexy swoon so often missing from their Facebook newsfeed. Sarcastic by nature, their two writing souls feel like they’ve found their other half. This is their most favorite adventure thus far. ​  
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Monday, October 29, 2018

Pit Stop Baby by Taryn Quinn

Gage likes to remember the good times, “I remember the claw marks I wore for days after you left me.” Gage pays attention to his woman, “first of all, hello—not a girl.” She grinned around a crunchy bite. “And I’m well aware you’re not wearing a bra. You’re trying to kill me.” I loved this book, I loved Gage.

Married in Vegas by Terri E. Laine

Cam is not a bashful man, “no way are you going to pee while I’m standing here?” Cam loves to have his woman naked, "he leaned in and kissed my neck. “Yeah, I can’t wait to take it off of you. In fact, we should leave now.” This was a quick fun read.

BLOG TOUR REVIEW: Lost with Me by J. Kenner


His touch takes my breath away. Our passion feeds my soul…

Damien Stark is back!

Lost With Me, a new full-length novel in the wildly popular Stark Saga from New York Times bestselling author J. Kenner, is available NOW!

LOST WITH ME_full wrap promo
My love for Damien fills me, and the intensity of our bond brings me to my knees.  There is no burden I wouldn’t bear for him, no decadent punishment to which I won’t submit.
The dark days seemingly behind us, we have carved a life out of adversity, chiseling away pain to reveal strength and beauty. Now, all I want is to laugh with our children in the sunlight, then surrender myself to Damien’s embrace in the dark.
But lingering secrets and hidden menace threaten our family. Now, Damien and I must forge a new strength from our shared passion and hope the fire between us will burn away the darkness and protect everything we hold most dear.
This sexy, emotionally charged romance continues the story of Damien Stark, the powerful billionaire who’s never had to take “no” for an answer, and his beloved wife Nikki Fairchild Stark.
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Damien still hates being away from his woman, “three days is too da*n long. I’m claiming you, Nikki. Marking my territory. Tonight, I’m taking what’s mine.” Damien likes to make sure Nikki knows he can get to her fast, “I can be home in forty minutes. Less if I take the helicopter.” Damien takes protection very seriously, “if it’s a question of perception versus your safety, then eff perception,” he says..." I loved seeing Nikki and Damien again.

  His name dies on my lips, but I hear it all the same in my head. Damien. My voice breathy. Full of need. He eases me back so that my body is flush against his, and I close my eyes, losing myself in the way his touch makes me feel even while fighting the urge to step away. To tell him to stop. That we’re in public, and we can’t do this. But I don’t. I stay, and as I close my eyes in acceptance of my own desires, I hear his low, soft moan of satisfaction and feel the swell of his erection against my lower back, his arousal growing with my acquiescence. Mine, too. Because while I may not want to be the kind of woman who gets turned on by her lover’s touch in a public gallery, I can’t deny the heat building between my thighs any more than I can deny the basic truth that where Damien is concerned, there are no limits. Not because I have none, but because he knows how to take me right to the edge. To make me breathless and needy and desperate. But never to push too far. I’d changed before meeting Jamie for lunch, and now I’m wearing a knit tank that hugs my body and a wrap style skirt that fastens with a single button at my hip. His hands are pressed against the curve of my waist, the heat of contact burning through the black knit of my top. I make a small move as if to turn around, but he tightens his grip, his utterance of noso soft that I may have only imagined it. But I know I’m not imagining the motion of his hands as he slowly eases them up my body, making my heart beat faster with each millimeter of progress higher and higher. My breath is shallow, and I whisper his name, “Damien,” not certain if I’m acknowledging the moment, pleading with him to stop, or begging him to continue. His hands curve under my breasts, his palms lifting them as he presses his thumbs down until my nipples are pinched tight between his thumbs and forefingers. He increases the pressure, and I suck in air, squeezing my legs together, my clit throbbing as I bite my lower lip and fight the urge to surrender to the heat that is building inside me. “You’re wondering if it’s pleasure she’s feeling,” he says, and my mind has traveled so far from these walls that it takes me a moment to realize that he’s referring to the woman in Blaine’s painting. “Pleasure or embarrassment,” he adds as his right hand eases lower, his fingers finding the flap of material where the ends of the skirt overlap. He slips his hand in, his palm sliding over the brushed cotton, his fingers slowly tugging the interior layer toward him. It bunches within his hand, and I bite back a gasp when his fingertips graze the bare skin of my thigh. “Was she turned on by the knowledge that so many would see her portrait?” His fingers slowly ease higher, closer and closer to my bare sex. I bite my lower lip and close my eyes, my entire body aching with need, craving his touch. I can imagine his hand cupping my sex, his fingers sliding inside as his lips brush my ear while he whispers to me, his sensual words making my imagination soar as my body quivers and tightens and explodes around him, and taste blood from biting down so hard to keep from crying out. I imagine all of that. Craving it. Desperate for it. And at the same time terrified of it. “Not here,” I murmur, resting my hand over my skirt. Over his hand. “Not now.” His fingers still, but he inches closer, his heat burning into my body, the beat of his heart reverberating through me. “I got your note. And your present.” His whisper rumbles through me, his words making me even more aware that I’m bare beneath this skirt. “I missed you by just ten minutes.” “How did you find me?” “I have my ways. And I’m willing to use all my resources to get what I want.” There’s a tease in his voice, and I smile in realization and amusement. Because it didn’t actually take too many resources. Just the app that’s installed on both our phones as well as our cars—and Bree’s, of course, in case we need to find her and the kids. He would have checked his phone, seen that I’d parked in Beverly Hills, and remembered that I was going to check on the girls’ cakes today. Presumably he was following my route and saw me step in here. “Do you really think I need a tracking device to find you?” he counters, after I tell him all that. “Don’t you know that you’re always in my heart, and how can I lose track of that?” I smile and sigh happily, his words delighting me. And, who knows. Maybe it’s true. My husband is a remarkable man. “I wanted to see you.” There’s a tone of finality in his voice. As if the details simply don’t matter.  As if his will alone is enough to find me. Maybe it is. “To touch you.” The fingers of his hand that still cup my breast tighten on my nipple, sending a new shock of desire running down to my core. “I wanted to know if you’re still bare, or if you’ve put on a fresh pair of panties.” His hand stays perfectly still, but, damn me, I relax the pressure of my own hand that’s been keeping his in check. “We can’t.” It’s a public gallery. Anyone could come in. But even as I think that, my eyes roam the room. The section we’re in has no windows. And the gallery is empty and echoey, with a bell over the door. We’re alone, except for Emily. And if she came this way her heels will undoubtedly click on the floor, giving us plenty of warning. The thought—the fantasy—makes my body tighten. “We can’t,” I repeat, as much to underscore the point as to remind myself of that very basic truth. “No?” His mouth brushes my ear, his breath disturbing my hair and sending shivers down my spine. “What if I told you that Emily was busy at her computer. That she’s locked the door for lunch. That I’m certain we won’t be seen.” I swallow and say nothing, afraid that if I speak, my desire will betray my common sense. “She won’t want to disturb us. Not when we might be contemplating a purchase. Destroy the moment, and she could lose a sale. She knows that. Knows that a client needs to get lost in the art. In the moment.” His thumb has been making small circles on my breast, and my heart is beating so hard now that I’m surprised Emily can’t hear its echo on the far side of the gallery. On my legs, his fingers move subtly. Not rising, but neither are they still. Instead, his fingertips brush my bare flesh in sensual movements designed to entice and tease. “What do you want, Nikki?” His words are as tender against my flesh as his fingers. “Do you want me to move higher, millimeter by millimeter, up your wet thighs as you hold your breath in anticipation? Would you cry out if I stroked your clit, unable to hold back the explosion? “Or maybe I shouldn’t stroke you there at all. Maybe I should slide my fingers deep inside you. Feel how slick you are, the way your body will clench around me, drawing me in as I use my thumb to tease around your clit. Never quite touching, but drawing you up and up, until you can’t take it anymore.” I can’t take it right now, and I’m certain he knows it. I want to tell him to stop—except I don’t want him to stop. And so all I do is whisper his name. A plea. A prayer. Damien. “That’s right, baby.” I hear heat in his low, melodic voice, a passion now equal to my own. “Would you scream my name when you explode? Or would you be so quiet as you tremble in my arms, that I’d be the only one who knows the force of your orgasm rocking through you? I’m trembling now, so close to the explosion he’s describing that my skin seems to sizzle. The thin whisper of air from the ducts above does nothing to cool my heated flesh. I want the release, crave it, and yet I can’t quite let myself go. Not here. Not like this. Damien knows that, of course. His real purpose isn’t to make me come—it’s to take me to the precipice. Pleasure, yes, but underscored by frustration. By need. And, ultimately by anticipation.  
About J. Kenner
Kenner (aka Julie Kenner) is the New York Times, USA Today, Publishers Weekly, Wall Street Journal and #1 International bestselling author of over one hundred novels, novellas and short stories in a variety of genres. Though known primarily for her award-winning and international bestselling erotic romances (including the Stark and Most Wanted series) that have reached as high as #2 on the New York Times bestseller list, JK has been writing full time for over a decade in a variety of genres including paranormal and contemporary romance, “chicklit” suspense, urban fantasy,  and paranormal mommy lit. JK has been praised by Publishers Weekly as an author with a “flair for dialogue and eccentric characterizations” and by RT Bookclub for having “cornered the market on sinfully attractive, dominant antiheroes and the women who swoon for them.” A six time finalist for Romance Writers of America’s prestigious RITA award, JK took home the first RITA trophy awarded in the category of erotic romance in 2014 for her novel, Claim Me (book 2 of her Stark Trilogy) and in 2017 for Wicked Dirty in the same category. Her Demon Hunting Soccer Mom series (as Julie Kenner) is currently in development as a television show. Her books have sold over three million copies and are published in over twenty languages. In her previous career as an attorney, JK worked as a clerk on the Fifth Circuit Court of Appeals, and practiced primarily civil, entertainment and First Amendment litigation in Los Angeles and Irvine, California, as well as in Austin, Texas.  She currently lives in Central Texas, with her husband, two daughters, and two rather spastic cats.
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Cards of Love: Judgment by Jenika Snow

I would kill for her.


The night Arsen killed my father was the first time I realized the lengths he’d go to keep me safe. He might have done it to protect me, but he was still convicted and locked away for seven years.
And for that entire time I waited for him, knowing that once he was released, things needed to be said, the truth needed to be spoken.
And that day was today.
I loved him, but the look he gave me, the possessiveness and pent-up arousal reflected in his eyes … had me realizing one thing.
Now more than ever, he wouldn’t let me go.


I went to prison for Harper, and I’d do it all over again to make sure she was safe. She was all I thought about the entire time I was behind bars, and it was her weekly visits that got me through the years, even if I tried pushing her away.
But after seven years of being locked up, I was finally released … and I was going to make her mine.

Warning: This is a short, dirty story about a hero who will go to any lengths to make sure the woman he loves is safe. With darker undertones and graphic scenes, there may be material some readers find offensive.

Without realizing it Arsen is a sweet man, just in a roughed up sort of way, “so, baby, get ready for it all, because I can’t be sweet or gentle, not even if you deserve it.” This was a quick naughty little read that I enjoyed.


I’d thought about this moment plenty of times, fantasized about how it would be to finally have Arsen to myself. It would be passionate, consuming … filthy. It would take my breath away and leave me a shaking mess.
I knew this because when I looked at Arsen, that’s how I felt. He didn’t even have to touch me, didn’t have to say one word. Just a look in my direction and my knees threatened to buckle, my heart racing … my pussy becoming wet.
So I knew being with him in this way, sexually, possessively … intensely, would be mind-numbing.
And it was.
It is.
I was on the bed, totally naked, my legs spread, and Arsen staring at me like he was barely hanging on to his control.
I knew the feeling.
We were both naked, and as much as I knew we should take things slow, savor this, I knew it wouldn’t go down that way.
I didn’t want it to.
My throat was tight, my mouth dry.
Every hard ridge, dip, and bulge of his muscles was shown in startling clarity, and my heart jackknifed behind my ribs. Arsen was big and muscular, far larger than what he’d been before going to prison. He looked like a man now, hard edges and a fierce composure.
And his tattoos … far more than he’d had before going into prison. They were dangerous, frightening, and even aggressive in their appearance.
And they turned me on even more.
So much strength it made me breathless.
“Harper,” he whispered in this gruff voice, pitched low, deadly. “I want to make this good for you, baby.”
“Don’t hold back.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I don’t want easy or gentle. I just want you.”
I was wet, almost embarrassingly so.
He moved back enough that I could see the long, hard, impressive length of his shaft.
He had a dark line of hair that started right below his belly button and continued its downward path to his cock.
My mouth dried at the size of him.
The thought came to mind that he was so thick and long I didn’t know if he’d fit comfortably inside of me. It was a ludicrous thought, because I knew I was made for him, built for whatever he had to give me. But I didn’t care, because I’d take every last inch of him.
“Harper, baby girl, I’m hanging onto a thread here, and you staring at my dick isn’t helping my self-control.” His voice was sharp, like a serrated blade running across my naked body.
I shivered in response and lifted my gaze to look into his face.
His eyes were half-closed, his head lowered. Arsen looked feral, which matched his outward appearance to a T. He reached down and grabbed his cock, stroking the thick, long length obscenely. “You want this?”
“God,” I whispered, that lone word leaving me. “Yes.” I stared into his darkened eyes again, seeing my beautiful monster standing before me, ready to claim me. “Come here. Take me.”

Jenika Snow, a USA Today bestselling author, lives in the northeast with her husband and their children.

She prefers gloomy days, eats the topping off of her pizza first, and prefers to wear socks year round.

Author Links

REVIEW BLITZ: Mr. Casanova by Lila Monroe

Title: Mr. Casanova
Series: Billionaire Bachelors #5
Author: Lila Monroe
Genre: Romantic Comedy
Release Date: October 29, 2018


Hot TV star Luke Rafferty is Hollywood’s newest bad boy… at least, according to the tabloids. He’s been steaming up the screens as Dr. Casanova for ten years, but thanks to his ex-wife, some tricky contract negotiations, and that incident with the stethoscope (don’t ask), he’s suddenly on an extended vacation - with his heartthrob career on the line.

Enter Stella Hartwick. 

A Hamptons local, she’s trying to get her home renovation company off the ground; winning the job for Luke’s new beachfront retreat would be her big break. And when she just happens to overhear his agent suggesting a fake relationship to give his reputation a swoon-worthy makeover, Stella sees the perfect solution to both their problems. 

What’s a little fake smooching between friend(ly professionals)?

Stella is determined to keep her eyes on the prize renovation and her hands OFF the hunky actor wandering shirtless through her construction site. But Luke has other ideas. Midnight skinny-dipping ideas. 

If only he wasn’t so heart-stompingly, panty-twistingly handsome… 

Soon, sparks are flying, and they’re both forgetting their kisses are just for show. But can this fake relationship weather a very real tabloid storm? Or will past betrayals and the Hollywood spotlight drive them apart before their romance has even begun? 

Find out in the new hot and hilarious romantic comedy from USA Today bestselling author, Lila Monroe! 

1 Very Irresistible Playboy
2 Hot Daddy 
3 Wild Card 
4 Man Candy 
5 Mr. Casanova
6 Best Man (March 2019)

Purchase Links


Available at other retailers soon

Luke may have the looks but the man needs to broaden his culinary skills, “eff you,” he says, but he’s smiling. “I can . . . scramble eggs.” There are times Luke diesntr need to be coaxed into things, "she surfaces a moment later, treading water in the inky dark. “Come in,” she calls. “The water’s lovely!” I shuck my jeans and boxers in one go, and cannonball in with a splash." I liked this book, I loved Luke.

Praise for Mr. Casanova

“This is a classic Lila Monroe story with so much humor, heat and heart you won't be able to put it down till the very end… If you are looking for a funny, lighthearted and smexy romance, get this! You won't be disappointed!!” – Bibliophile Chloe’s Blog

“I loved Mr.Casanova from start to finish: it was a fabulous read, full of great moments that really brought a smile to my face.” – Goodreads reviewer

“My favorite book in the series! There's nothing like a good romance that makes you laugh and swoon at the same time.” – Reading Keeps Me Sane Blog

“I loved it! Lila Monroe always delivers the fun flirty banter, great characters, and a lot of good times.” – Goodreads reviewer 

Author Bio

Combining her love of writing, sex and well-fitted suits, Lila Monroe wrote The Billionaire Bargain. Lila enjoys writing, as it gives her a flexible schedule to spend time with her kids and a wonderful excuse to avoid them. She lives in Los Angeles with her husband, who strips out of his well-fitted suits nightly.

Author Links

Sunday, October 28, 2018

Bulldozer by P. Dangelico

At least Grant knows how to apologize to a woman properly and plans for future mess ups, even if he gets the names wrong, “right. Amazon. I’ll have ten Kimbles overnighted in case I ruin another one. No need to cry.” I honestly think Grant doesn't know what clothes are, the man is either always naked or half naked, "Confusion falls over his face, his hand absentmindedly brushing across his bulging pecs like he only now remembers that he’s mostly naked. “It’s hot.” It’s not that hot, but whatever." Grant is just not a morning person, "I nudge Grant’s shoulder. “One more hour… tired baby… rode me like a beast a burden…” he slurs in his sleep." I loved this book, I adored Grant and his moodiness.

BLOG TOUR REVIEW: Thor (Thorny Devils MC Book 1) by MLJ Quigg

Title: Thor
Series: Thorny Devils MC Book #1
Author: MLJ Quigg
Genre: MC Romance
Release Date: October 28, 2018

Separated for fifteen years, will they be able to let the past stay in the past or is there too much hurt to forgive and forget.
Fifteen years ago, he broke my heart, leaving me to put my life together after he disappeared. Then out of the blue, he waltzes back in like it didn't matter. I knew I couldn't keep him away because it wasn't just me anymore.
I made the biggest mistake when I left her. Now she's back, and I'm going nowhere. She will be mine again. She just has to get with the program.

Monique's mind sometimes wanders, “no probs. Talk to you soon,” I replied, watching his arse as he walked out the door. Man, he has a nice arse. Focus, Monique. Damn." Derrick is not a dumb man he knows when to take his woman's hints, "the three of us get up, and I watched her arse as we walked out the door behind her. Monique threw her keys at me, catching them one-handed, I asked, “Guess I’m driving, baby?” I liked this book, I loved Derrick.

MLJ lives in NSW, Australia, with her husband, three adult children, and six cats—yes, you heard that right, six.
Growing up in a huge family of eight kids was always noisy and didn’t give her enough alone time to unwind.
Books have always given her an outlet from the craziness that is her life. Nothing is better than curling up with a good story to take her mind off her surroundings.
As a new author, she hopes you enjoy her stories and that they help you get out of your world and into hers for a few hours.


Saturday, October 27, 2018

Merrily Ever After: A Novella by Jenny Holiday

Jay knows how to rile up his woman, " have a nice ***k, Jay, but don’t flatter yourself— no one is that big.” Jay loves to play board games, "He bent over and kissed her, quick but hard. “But I would love you a lot more naked on the other side of a Scrabble board.” I liked seeing Elise and Jay again.

Not So Happily Ever After by Christina Phillips

Mac can read her man like a book, “let me guess.” Her voice is soft, and she traces a finger along the line of my jaw. “You’re sleeping in here tonight, right?” Will really dotes on his woman, “Mac has an exhibition at Camden Market on Boxing Day. You’re all invited.” Will makes it sound more like a command than an invite..." I liked this book, I loved Will.

Risky Play by Rachel Van Dyken

Slade is just a tease at times, “and you make me harder than I should be. And yet, here I am.” He crossed his arms. Don’t look down. Do not. Look. Down. I gulped. His smile broke out into a huge grin." Slade really has an obsession with balls, “please,” I snorted. “I can handle all balls, even my own, big shock. I know, let it sink in for a minute.” I think there are times Slade his jealous of his dog, "he let out a growl and rubbed his fur against her bare legs like he was trying to remind her how soft he was. “Don’t be territorial, Alfie, she still loves you,” I said in a sleep-filled voice as I wrapped my arms around her from behind. “You look sexy in my shirt.” I loved this book, I loved Slade, Jagger needs his own book.

The Electric Tunnel Series by Rachel Blaufeld

I loved having the series all in one box set, it means I could read the books one after another without searching through my kindle to find the next one. These characters are lovable and were a joy to read about.